


Help I accidentally became a father

by Blvve



Series: Help I accidentally... [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED!, Accidental Marriage, Adorable Grogu | Baby Yoda, Badass Cara Dune, Canon-Typical Violence, Changing POV, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Family Fluff, Feels, Fluff, Good Parent Din Djarin, Grogu stays, Grogu | Baby Yoda Being a Little Shit, Grogu | Baby Yoda Needs a Hug, Idiots in Love, It happens, M/M, ManDadlorian, Migs Mayfeld is good with kids, Nightmares, Other, POV Din Djarin, POV Migs Mayfeld, Planet Nevarro (Star Wars), Plushies, Protective Din Djarin, Protective Grogu | Baby Yoda, Protective Migs Mayfeld, Soft Din Djarin, Soft Migs Mayfeld, Some hurt/comfort, Stubborn Din Djarin, Stubborn Migs Mayfeld, Tags May Change, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, and a couch, as in froggie plush, bathtime, brief sleep deprivation, but i swEAR THIS COUCH WILL BURN IN HELL, can i put cuddling in it, confused space husbands, even though he dropped grogu, grandpa Greef, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:08:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29090322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blvve/pseuds/Blvve
Summary: What if the rescue mission had gone according to the plan? What if the Jedi didn't show up just yet?The story mostly will be featuring our confused space husbands and their green bean of a son, living on Nevarro, waiting for the Jedi to show up and take the kid to school. It's heavily based on prompts I got on Tumblr, and I don't have a clear idea where this is going so feel free to send me some of your ideas on my Tumblr: blvvewolf.!!! IMPORTANT !!!: This fic takes place right after the second chapter of my previous fic: "Help I accidentally got married" and it's an alternate version of the story. So if you haven't read it yet, GO THERE NOW, even if only for those first two chapters (they're super short so don't worry). Otherwise, enjoy!
Relationships: Cara Dune & Migs Mayfeld, Cara Dune/Fennec Shand (background), Din Djarin & Cara Dune, Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Migs Mayfeld & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin/Migs Mayfeld, Grogu | Baby Yoda & Migs Mayfeld
Series: Help I accidentally... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134329
Comments: 38
Kudos: 138





	1. The Shuttle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to post it a week ago, and I got the prompts like a month ago I don't know. But I had this weird thing where I couldn't make myself do anything and then felt bad over doing nothing and it became a vicious cycle of boredom and self-hatred, but anyway, it's here now.

This mission was a success. A nice change, really. For once, everything went as planned. They got to the bridge, took out the guards and technicians, and let the feral Mandalorian lady take care of Moff Gideon. 

In the middle of their little fight, he had pulled out some glowing sword, but she managed to par most of his attacks. Apparently, mandalorian armor can withstand the heat of the blade. What couldn't be said about several chairs and panel controls that got in the way. 

In no time, Bo-Katan had the Imp pinned to the ground. With his own saber held to his throat. He didn't look happy about it. He even tried to shoot himself in the head later, when their attention wasn't pointed at him. Migs would've let him, really, dude was a dick. Who in the world kidnaps a child and holds it in a prison cell? But Dune knocked him out. Something about needing him for interrogation, or some shit else. Then all was left to do for him was wait for Din. 

They didn't have to wait long, though. Several moments later, Mando came striding in with the child in his arms. Both of them seemed unharmed. Migs sighed in relief. He wanted to go up to them, but he stopped himself. Would that seem weird? They still barely knew each other, even though they were married now. They should probably change that as soon as they got the chance for a moment without running, shooting, and being shot at. When was the last time he went on a vacation? 

He forced his mind to come back to the present moment, now was not the time.

The rest was in the middle of discussing something. He glanced at Mando. He was standing a little to the side, clutching the kid but still participating in the conversation. Migs came a little closer to the group. He wanted to hear better what was happening. Bo-Katan was saying something about her taking the cruiser. 

"That's fine with me, as long as I get to take Gideon to Nevarro for interrogation." The marshal replied firmly. 

The Mandalorian nodded, "He's of no use to me anymore. I have what I needed." Then she turned to Mando, "You should reconsider my offer. Come with us, help us reunite our people." 

Din turned his head to her, then down to the child, made a very brief glance in Migs' direction. He seemed to come to a verdict as he looked back at her and said, "I think we should stay low for some time... It would do good for the kid to get a break from dangerous situations." Bo-Katan nodded. But if someone asked him, Migs would say she wasn't happy about his decision. 

"Perhaps you'll change your mind someday. You will be welcome at my side, even considering your ties to that cu- to the Tribe." She corrected herself. Was she about to say cult? Mando was in a cult? That would somehow explain why he didn't take his helmet off, and the others did. Not the time, he reminded himself. He would have to add that to the list of "Questions he had to ask his now-husband, about said husband", along with how he happened to be a father to an alien green bean who was now sleeping in his arms?

"If you want a place to stay low, you could come back with me to Nevarro. I can get you a nice, secluded place. And I'm sure Greef would love to be close enough for him to make sure you're taking proper care of the kid." Dune smiled. Actually smiled. Migs doesn't remember seeing her smiling without a trace of some kind of mischief or promise of pain in her eyes.

"That," he hesitated and looked to Migs. Was he asking him for an opinion? He really shouldn't have any right to decide anything about Din's life after he practically took away his freedom. That may seem a little exaggerated, but how else was he supposed to call it? Because of his cowardliness, Din had to marry him. Not someone he loved. Not even a good person. And from what he gathered, Mandalorians married for life. With the whole "no person can see my face and live" and all. So Migs just shrugged to let him know he was free to do anything he wanted. "That doesn't seem like such a bad idea." He said slowly. 

"Great. We'll take one of the shuttles." It wasn't a question. She stated it, without caring about Bo-Katan's opinion. Now that. That he could respect. That lady seemed to look down at all of them, even her own kind. It reminded him too much of the imperial hierarchy. The higher-ups looking down on their subordinates, treating them like trash. That made him sick. 

She proceeded to grab the still unconscious form of Moff Gideon and throw him over her shoulder. Just how much brute strength did that woman have? Though, Migs would be lying if he said it wasn't making something in his stomach flutter. 

She made her way to the doors with Mando on her hills. Migs made a move to follow them, but the Mandalorian suddenly stopped and turned around.

"Wait, what about you?" His helmet was directed at Fennec Shan. Who was still standing on the side, so quiet that Migs had completely forgotten she was there. How sweet of Din to remember and care for all of his colleagues. Something Migs definitely wanted to get used to.

"I'll wait here until Boba returns. It shouldn't take long." 

"You sure you don't want a ride?" Dune asked hopefully, and Shand smiled. Migs would bet all of his credits there something was happening between the two of them. 

"I'm sure, but I'll maybe be able to visit you on your planet soon. See how well you're doing your work, Marshal." She smirked.

"Alright, let's go."

They took the shuttle, some supplies for the flight packed on board along with very disgruntled Moff Gideon secured to one of the passenger bucket seats, still in handcuffs and now gagged. Migs is pretty grateful for the last part. The guy doesn't know when to shut up. And that's saying something coming from _him._

Dune was sitting in the pilot's chair, entering coordinates for the space jump. Din took the co-pilot's place, the child still securely in his lap. If Migs had to guess, it was for his comfort just as much as it was for the child's. He needed to reassure himself that the kid was safe and with him. Another question for the list: What was the child's name? He couldn't keep calling him child and kid! He mused as he got himself comfortable in a seat behind his husband.

Migs felt the pressure press him further into the seat as the ship jumped into hyperspace. 

"Okay, we're set. I'll go back there to keep an eye on the prisoner. Don't want him making our lives harder." She said while standing up. "Give you two some space too." 

"Whatever that's supposed to mean." He couldn't help but mutter, but she just waved him off and left, the door sliding shut behind her.

Migs could've sworn he heard Din try to stifle a yawn under the helmet. Rather poorly, in his humble opinion.

"You should get some sleep." Din turned his chair around to face him and cocked his head slightly to the side. Migs noticed the slight twitch of his hands around the kid still sleeping in his lap. "I'm serious. You haven't had time to rest since Morak, and maybe even before. I don't know that. The kid's safe. You really should tell me his name sometime soon, by the way. The coordinates are set. You don't have to do anything, and even if something happened, which it won't, you have me, and the hot-scary lady back there, to take care of that. You probably look like shit under the helmet, too. Go to sleep." He crossed his arms to make the point seem stronger.

Din could only nod, a little dumbfounded at being told what to do, if Migs had to guess. He mumbled something suspiciously sounding like "his name is Grogu" (That name weirdly suited the little guy if Migs was honest), then cradled the child closer to his chest and leaned back in his seat. It wasn't long before Migs could hear silent snores. Pleased with his work, he too leaned back in his chair. Not sleeping, just resting. It would be a long flight.

Just then, he heard fussing from the seat in the front. The kid must've woken up. _Great_ , he just got Din to sleep. He couldn't let the kid wake him now.

\---

Din awakened slowly, head spinning. He must've been more tired than he thought. He groggily took in his surroundings. The first thing that caught his attention was the lack of the familiar weight in his lap. That managed to shake him awake almost immediately. He jumped out of his seat and turned around. Ready to storm out and find whoever dared to take his child, again. All of the worst scenarios swirling around his head. They were tracked and attacked by another Imp. Moff Gideon somehow freed himself and took the child back. Mayfeld, tempted by the price on the kid's head, got him to let down his guard and took off with the child to collect the reward. Din would never forgive himself if he misjudged Migs' intentions, therefore putting the kid in more danger.

His horrific train of thoughts stopped the moment he took in the scene happening in one of the back chairs in the cockpit. Migs was sitting, holding Grogu under armpits, bouncing him lightly on his knees. Or rather, he was doing that before Din had jumped out of his seat, startling them both. Now Migs was looking at him with a concerned expression.

"You okay?" Din nodded slowly, trying to calm down his heart, beating furiously in his chest. He relaxed his stance.

Grogu cooed unhappily at being forgotten and waved his tiny hands up and down to try to get Mayfeld to bounce his knees again. He chuckled and complied. 

"Quite the attention seeker, aren't you?" Migs cooed fondly.

In all honesty, it was a strange sight. Din would've never guessed that Migs was good with kids. Not after their first encounter. It was peculiar how the kid seemed to forget that Migs dropped him onto the floor. In Din's experience, Grogu is not very forgiving. He tried to choke Cara to death with his powers that one time Din grunted in strain during their arm-wrestling match. 

It was somehow heart-warming too. Din felt bad for accusing Migs of stealing the child. He wouldn't do that. He was part of their clan now. 

He sat back down. This time turned to Migs and Grogu.

"Feeling better?" Migs asked, not looking up from the child who was happily waving his hands around.

"A little. How long was I asleep?" 

"Not even an hour. Dune came by once to check on us or something. Threatened to smash my face in if I hurt the green bean."

"Sounds about right." Din smiled under the helmet. He knew Cara had their backs, she had proven that on several occasions. But still, it was a nice reminder they weren't on their own.

"Right, I was about to ask. What happened to your ship? I don't think you'd choose imperial shuttle over the Crest just because."

That soured his mood a little. He knew the questions would come as well as the fact that Migs deserved to know the answers. He just hoped he would have a bit more time to prepare himself. Well, no time like the present.

"Destroyed by Moff Gideon's cruiser."

"Oh.- I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." 

"No, no. It's okay, you can ask questions- more questions, if you want."

"Oh, _oh._ Okay, um- well, I'm not gonna lie, there is a growing list of questions I want to ask. I'm not going to dump it all on you at once, obviously. And you don't have to answer if you don't want to- I mean, of course, you don't have to. Just so you don't feel obliged or anything. I mean- I'm rambling now, aren't I?" _Yes,_ but it was quite entertaining to see Migs Mayfeld struggle with his words a little. Especially when it apparently comes from his concern for Din's comfort. "I should- I'll just go straight for the questions." Din nodded. 

"So, how you got the kid? I've seen your face, and unless you're hiding a pair of big, pointy ears, 'am pretty sure he's not yours." 

"He was a bounty-" "A _kid?!_ Sorry, continue?" Migs put one of his fists to his mouth, like he was physically stopping himself from interrupting. "They told me he was over fifty years old. Apparently, his species age differently. Took him there, but I couldn't just leave him to the Imps, so I took him back. The Armorer told me to find his kind or raise him as my foundling."

"The Armorer?"

"The leader of our Tribe."

"Okay, that leads me to another question. Are you in a cult? Am I in a cult now as well?"

"I- don't know." He said slowly. "I was taught that our way, the Way, is the right and only way to be a Mandalorian, but I've met others. They don't follow the Way, not the same one at least. I've learned there are other fractions. More than I thought." His voice was solemn. Was Migs gonna leave him now? Under the excuse that Din can be a Mandalorian with people seeing his face. He didn't know why, but that thought made him uneasy, nervous almost.

"So like, Bo-Katan, her friend, and the Grandpa Mando?" Din nodded, smiling at the nickname despite himself. "So you might be in a cult after all." Migs sniggered. 

"Even if, not anymore. Most of the Tribe died when Moff Gideon took over Nevvaro in his search for Grogu." The child perked up at the mention of his name. Migs was too preoccupied with the conversation to play with him, so he just sat there leaning his back on Migs' stomach and playing with one of his sleeves. "I'm not sure who survived."

"Look at that, how nicely we're jumping from one topic to the next I want to ask about. What does the dick want from the kid anyway? Were they enemies in preschool or something? Wait! Now that I think about it, if Grogu is over fifty, he's basically older than both of us. That's some fucked up shit right there." Migs tried to lighten the mood. Din appreciated it. Really, but with this question, here came another complicated issue. 

"Grogu is-well, not yet, but will- can be a Jedi." At that moment all of Migs' attention was on the child in his arms. He looked at him with something akin to awe and horror. "That's the reason why he wanted him. At least, I think. He never specified." He made a brief pause. "And there's another reason why I decided to stay low. Before he was taken, Grogu reached out to a Jedi, who's supposed to train him. If we stop moving for some time, it'll be easier for him to find us."

"Find us and? What then?" Migs demanded weakly, already suspecting the answer he would get.

"And take the child with him. For training." Din looked down.

Migs must've sensed his unease because he didn't say anything for a moment. Even though he looked like he wanted to protest. And didn't Din understand him perfectly well? They had just gotten Grogu back. He wasn't ready to give the little wopm rat to someone else yet. He wasn't sure he would ever be. He didn't want to think about that.

"For now, he's staying with us. I don't know when, or if, the Jedi will show up. So let's not worry about that now?" He said pleadingly. Migs looked conflicted for a moment but let it go eventually. 

"So... The kid has powers?"

"Yes." Din nodded and started fumbling with his belt. He took out the round shift knob, the only thing he had left of his ship. 

"Grogu." He caught the kid's attention and held out the metal ball in his open palm, "Take it." Grogu hesitated, looking at Migs and then Din. He made a questioning sound, and Din didn't have to look at his husband to know he was skeptical about the whole thing.

"C'mon, just like we practiced." Grogu, reassured by his father's words, reached his little, clawed hand towards the ball. He narrowed his eyes in concentration and made a soft grunting noise.

The ball slowly lifted from Din's hand, then quickly flew right into Grogu's. He caught the metal into both his arms and clutched it tightly, making a happy gurgle. He inspected it thoughtfully, as if checking if it changed somehow since he'd last seen it. 

The next thing that happened knocked a little breath out of Din's chest. Grogu turned around and raised the ball to show it off to Migs proudly. Just like a kid showing their parent a new skill they learned. It was such a domestic sight. Domestic and normal. Din didn't know when was the last time he felt like this. To not have to worry about anything, for now. He could just enjoy a peaceful moment with his ad'ika and- and riduur now too. That's a new concept, but not an unwelcome one, though.

Migs recovered from the shook and fairly quickly, "Well done, buddy! Can't say I've ever seen something quite like that." He smiled. "You're something special, aren't you?" There was so much fondness in his voice. Suddenly, his head shot up, as if only now remembering Din was watching them. A slight blush colored his cheeks.

Yes, Din was sure now. He definitely made the right decision marrying that man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said before, please send me some prompts on my Tumblr, preferably something cute and fluffy, but some angst and feels never hurt anybody too (too much I mean)


	2. The Frog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the three-day delay, I had tons of stuff to do, and then my writing program crashed, and I just wanted to post it the second I finished this chapter but then I was reminded that my beta has her own life besides checking my fics.:( Anyway, here it is now. Hope you'll like it.

Greef was out in the port the moment their shuttle touched the ground. 

"Mando!" He shouted, smiling when he saw Din walking down the ramp. "How's the child?" He asked, shaking hands with the Mandalorian, concern clear in his voice. Din reached into his satchel and handed the child to Greef.

"Oh! Come here, Little One! Are you well?" Grogu gurgled at him happily, his ears perking up. "Yeah? You haven't changed one bit since I last saw you. You're still so small. Is Mando even feeding you properly? Are you feeding him properly?" He turned to Din, now fully serious. 

"It's good to see you too..." Din murmured helplessly.

Din turned back towards the shuttle at the sound of struggling. Cara and Migs were dragging the bound Moff off the ship. He must've been putting a lot of strength into his fight if Migs had to help Cara. Stars only know how strong that woman really is. 

"Do you need help with that one?" Greef handed the child back to Din and called over some of his men. They quickly replaced Migs and Cara by Gideonn's sides. She started giving them instructions. Something about how to deal with him until she went to question him, it's amazing how easily she fell into a Marshal's role.

In his contemplating, he didn't realize Migs came up to stand next to him until he spoke up, "I'll just go hit the market really quickly. Need to restore some things." Here he gestured at his clothing. They were clearly the same things Migs had on himself while on their first mission together. And Din doubted the prison guards were kind enough to wash them when Migs served his time. 

He nodded, "I'll catch up to you later."

"Okay. See you, Brown Eyes. Bye, kid." He waved at Grogu, and Grogu waved back. Then he was gone, but not for long. He would be back. Din smiled. Greef gave them a weird look but said nothing, instead turning his head to Cara, who was now walking towards them after sending Greef's men off.

"We should get back to my office. I'll give you the coordinates then." Din tilted his head to the side, looking between Cara and Greef. 

"Coordinates...?"

"To your house, Mando. Cara gave me heads-up, so I could prepare you a locum. It's just out of town, enough to be private but still close if you need anything. I got you a land speeder packed with some supplies too."

"That's- That's too much I can't ask-" He tried to reason with them.

"Oh, please! It's not for you. It's for the kid. You're just getting the scraps." Greef looked almost offended. Din sighed in resignation. There was no chance he was getting out of this one. Greef's grandpa instincts must've kicked in, "I prepared the kid's room myself. You're gonna love it, Little One!" He looked so proud of himself. It was a lost cause.

"Let's go then." Cara clapped him on the shoulder heartily.

-

The sun was almost setting by the time Din was mercifully released from what felt like an interrogation. They were supposed to probe Moff Gideon, not him. He made his way to the speeder. He really should hurry up, find Migs and get to the house before the nightfall. The prospect of roaming through a darkened desert in search of one small building didn't appeal to him that much. The kid was probably exhausted too. 

The market place was fairly close. And thankfully, most people were heading home at this hour, so it wasn't overly crowded. Din parked the speeder by one of the houses nearby and hoped nobody would be bold enough to steal anything from a vehicle with New Republic's symbols all over it.

He looked around. Surely Mayfeld didn't wander too far off. He spotted him standing by a both with fabrics, a large bag thrown over his shoulder. He was targeting loudly with an old lady over some piece of clothing. Din couldn't see what it was exactly. 

Finally, they must've came to an agreement because Migs handed over some credits, took the attire, and turned around with a huff of annoyance. He noticed Din then and strode over quickly.

"Mando, you won't believe how she tried to rip me off. Unbelievable." He muttered, "I should've told her I knew the guy in charge here. It's basically the truth. I know you, and you know him." 

Din chuckled, "We should go. Do you have everything you needed?"

"Pretty much, yeah. They have all kinds of things here. You would be surprised." Din cocked his head to the side. "Orrrrr not... Wait, are you from here?" Din just turned and started walking away, towards the speeder. "Hey! Don't you walk away from me, this is a very important piece of information. Mando!" Migs stressed as he caught up to him.

"No, but seriously, are you?" 

"The Tribe was stationed here, under the city." He hesitated, but the information wasn't a secret anymore. They had revealed themselves, and even if they hadn't, most of them were dead anyway. 

"Oh, right." He paused, "Go where, if I may ask?" and changed the topic.

"Greef got us a house on the outskirts. It's our best option for now." Migs noded. 

"Great, nothing better than a normal bed. Haven't had that luxury in a while." 

They got in the speeder after Migs secured his shopping to the already big pile of carts at the back. When Greef said 'some' supplies, he meant 'a kriff-load of them'. 

The journey wasn't that long, but by the time they reached the coordinates, it was dark already. And if Grogu had started dozing off before, the speeder coming to a stop must've woken him up because he was cooing curiously, his full attention on the house. All three were inspecting it. 

"Looks pretty cozy." Migs commented, his eyes never leaving the small building. Din couldn't read the emotion on his face.

The house was disappearing into a giant rock, with a round dome of a room sticking at the top. A red awning stretched above the door. It was very similar to the houses in the village. Like someone took it right from the town and dropped it in the middle of a desert. The rock formations on the side and behind the house gave a pleasant sense of security. At least they weren't out in the open, waiting to be shoot. 

They brought the crates with supplies inside. There were so many they had to make several trips back and forth. Greef had really outdone himself.

"Do we want to unpack all of this stuff like now or not necessarily? Because I really want to explore this place a little." Migs gave him a sheepish smile. Din looked at the child at his side, Grogu was curious too. They needed to know the layout of the house anyway. 

"Okay," he nodded, "we can look around."

The front door led directly to a living area, with a small couch by the wall on the right and two armchairs on its sides. It was conjoined with a small open kitchen. There was a baby chair by the counter. As Migs said, it was pretty cozy. Where the two spaces met was a short hallway, with two doors on the sides and a staircase twisting to the left at the end. As it turned out, the door on the right led to a small bedroom with a big, comfortable-looking bed. And the one on the left, to a fresher. It wasn't much, but it was certainly designed for comfortable living.

The stairs at the end were leading to a small round room. It had tiny windows facing every direction. From where Din stuck his head out of the opening in the floor, he could see a crib, some drawers, and a mat on the floor. It was clearly Grogu's room. There was even a mobile above the crib. The bed itself was filled with soft blankets. Grogu reached out for them, cooing softly. Din was hesitant to let him sleep in the clean sheets. He would much rather give him a thorough bath first, but seeing how his big eyes were barely staying open, he caved in. He could wash the blankets while bathing Grogu at the same time tomorrow. 

With how happy Grogu looked while snuggling into the blankets, Din couldn't bring himself to regret his decision.

"Oh! I almost forgot." Din almost jumped at Migs' shout-whisper. The other man was rummaging through his bag in search of something. Din forgot he was even here. He really needed to get some proper sleep. That kind of inattentiveness could get him killed. "I saw this in one of the booths in the market and immediately thought of the little guy." He pulled out a frog plushie, grinning a little.

"You saw a frog... and thought of him?"

"Well, they're both green, aren't they? And a knob from a gear shift can't be his only toy. He's a kid." He looked around, "At least that's what I thought at the time. Didn't think there would be toys waiting for him here." He was right, there were several toys strewn around the room, for example, a bouncy ball on a shelf and a big box of wooden blocks in different shapes. But the gesture was sweet never the less, another positive surprise from Migs.

Din watched as the other man cautiously moved towards the crib and placed the froggie beside the child. The plush was practically as big as his whole body. 

Grogu barely opened his eyes at the intrusion, then hugged the plushie to himself. Who would've thought he was a cuddler. 

"I think he likes it," Din whispered smiling, and took off his helmet. He felt more than saw Migs stiffen beside him. 

"I mean, we're married, right? So it's okay?" Migs stammered, looking at him yet not quite meeting his eyes. Din reassured the other man with a nod. He looked back down at Grogu. It must've worked because Migs was looking down at the child again, a content smile on his face. It was nice. Peaceful. Just two of them, watching the child sleep, without any real threat looming over their's head.

An audible yawn fought its way through Din, interrupting their quiet moment.

"We should get some rest too." Migs chipped in, half-amused, and nudged Din towards the stairs. Din nodded, trying to stifle another yawn.

They were almost at the bedroom's door when Din stopped abruptly. There was only one bed. He didn't thought about it before, but either one of them would sleep on the small couch, or they would have to share the bed. It wasn't like the bed wasn't big enough. They could certainly both fit in it without laying on top of each other, but would Migs want to sleep with him? They were husbands now, sure, but did it mean anything except for the fact that Din could remain a Mandalorian? Din could see how Migs might perhaps believe their marriage was the only thing keeping him alive. He seemed uncomfortable back in the room when Din took off his helmet. Sleeping so close together would probably be even worse for him. 

Migs took one look at his face and seemed to know exactly know what was on his mind, "Don't worry, I'll take the couch." So that answered Din's question. He couldn't place the reason for the slight disappointment he felt at that moment. Maybe he was just too tired. 

"You can take the fresher first."

"Thanks," he mumbled and dragged his feet to where his bag was thrown on the floor. He doesn't remember much after that, only the softness of the bed as he sank into it.

-

Din woke up to the smell of caff and something cooking. He emerged sleepily from his room and into the kitchen space. What he saw was Migs, standing by the stove, frying some eggs. Caff was brewing next to him. Grogu was sitting in the high chair, munching on a stack of waffles with the frog plushie lying next to him on the counter. He looked around. Most of the supplies they got were unpacked and put away. The house looked cleaner somehow. At this point, Din decided to expect anything from the man humming under his nose in front of him.

"Goodmorning to you too." Migs was looking at him now instead of eggs. "Stars, are you even awake yet? You look like you didn't sleep a minute. Not a morning person, I assume." He chuckled. That wasn't the case though, his bed back on Razor Crest was a narrow crawl space. He had gotten used to how cramped it was, and with all this space in his bed now? Din couldn't help but feel a little kenophobic. Now that Din got a good look at Migs, he noticed how pale he was, even more so than his naturally light complexion, and there were dark bruises under his eyes. He looked dead on his feet. And with the amount of things done, did he sleep at all? On Morak, Migs said something about trouble sleeping. Was that it?

Din made his way slowly to one of the chairs next to Grogu. He slumped in his seat and patted the child on the head. Grogu grubbled happily around a waffle shoved into his mouth. The syrup was dripping down the sides of his face. Din hid his grimace under one hand and reached for a towel lying on the counter nearby with the other. The cleaning didn't help much. The kid was still sticky and needed a bath, but the sugary evil wasn't actively flowing from his mouth, at least.

"I slept. Did you?" He looked at Migs pointedly.

"I don't know what you mean. I slept like a baby." Migs put the eggs on plates and brought them to the counter, seating himself in front of Din. So he didn't want to talk. Din decided to drop the subject and instead focus on his breakfast. The food was surprisingly good.

He heard a wet splat to his left. One of the waffles slipped out of Grogu's grasp and landed on the floor.

"Kwff." Din's head whipped towards the child. The mumbled syllable sound suspiciously like _kriff_. 

"Did you just...?" He turned to Migs, who was staring at the kid in shock, "Did he just?"

Migs burst out laughing, "Oh, stars. This is _amazing._ Good job, kid!"

"Don't encourage him! His first word can't be a curse." Din 

"It's his first word? Oh my- I can't- this got so much better!" Migs was wheezing now, grin splitting his face in two. 

"Kwff!" Grogu must've took Migs laugh as a positive reaction, so he tried again, louder this time. Looking up at Migs, his eyes shining.

"No, no, no. Stop it. Don't talk like that." Grogu watched him curiously.

"Kw-" "No." Din pleaded, his pained expression worked. Grogu no longer tried to perfect his speech. Instead just looked at him a little disappointed. Migs was cackling, bowed down in the middle. He almost fell off his stool.

"Okay, that's it. I'm giving you that bath now." He grabbed to child under his armpits and lifted him off the chair. Grogu whined a little, and when Din tried to walk out of the kitchen, he reached out his little hands towards the frog on the counter.

"You want your froggie?" He couldn't say he wasn't surprised. The kid never really got attached to anything except for the ball. But then again, he never had any real toys too. At least not while in Din's care. Did that make him a bad parent?

He went to grab the stuffed animal and give it to the kid, who hugged it close to himself. He seemed content with wherever Din was taking him now. Until he realized it was the fresher. 

Now. Din had tried to properly bathe the kid once. But it was such a horrible experience for both of them that he quickly given up on that, only cleaning him when absolutely necessary, sue him. Grogu could be vicious when he wanted to, and he despised baths. Now though, they had a clean house, and Din aspired to keep it that way. Meaning they all had to be clean too. _Including_ the little whomp rat squirming in his arms. 

There was a small baby basin stored under the sink. Din didn't notice it the day before in his half-asleep state, but now that he saw it, he couldn't help but be grateful to Greef. This should be easier than in a shower. He filled the bowl with water and added some soap. Next, he peeled the dirty onesie from Grogu's small body. The real challenge started here. He lifted the child up and proceeded to put him in the basin. As expected, the screeching started then along with the aggressive failing of little arms. 

He barely heard the hurried footsteps nearing the fresher. Migs burst through the door. 

"What's happening?! Are you okay?" He looked down on kneeling Din, holding the crying child over a basin full of foamy water. He relaxed slightly, seeing no immediate danger. 

"He doesn't like bathing," Din said weakly, his voice almost completely drowned out by the wailing. He tried to put him in the water again, but once his clawed feet touched the surface, he started kicking out, splashing Din's front in the process.

Migs tried to stifle his laugh, unsuccessfully. Din glared at him.

"Sorry, sorry. Here." He walked over and kneeled on the opposite side of the basin. Then picked up the frog plushie and tried to catch Grobu's attention with it.

"Hey, kid, look. Is that your froggie?" Grogu stopped wailing for a moment catching his breath. Still sniffling a little, but calmer now. He reached out for his plushie with a whimper. "Yeah, it is. Yeah. But it's a frog, so it really likes to swim. If you want to play with it, it has to be in the water." Din snorted.

"Don't laugh. I'm making this up as I go. And jokes on you 'cause it's working." He lowered the plushie so that its legs were dipped in the water. Grogu cooed and reached for the frog. Din was amazed when he brought him down so that his feet too were under the surface, and he didn't seem to mind. They worked like that until Grogu was fully seated in the basin. Migs handed the frog to the child, who took it happily and started babbling happily. 

"I don't know how much you paid for it, but this frog is magical." Din breathed.

"Careful, I might think you actually have a sense of humor." Migs smiled, and Din chuckled at the joke.

Migs then excused himself as Din made a quick work of washing the grime off of the miniature whomp rat. 

They emerged from the hall some time later. Grogu wrapped in a fluffy towel with his frog, like a little burrito, and Din soaked from head to toe, clearly exhausted.

Migs snickered from where he was nursing his caff, leaning on the counter. Din decided to ignore him and slump on the couch. The plan would've been perfect if not for something hard that jabbed him once his butt made contact with the cushion. 

He jumped and whipped around. The child, still in his hands, disgruntled at the commotion. Not seeing anything, he went to pat over the surface. Sure enough, there was something hard and sharp just under the textile. Precisely in the middle of the left side of the couch. Probably a spring or something.

"So you were lying. There's no way you slept like this," Din accused.

"Please, Mando, do you even know the places I've slept over the years? This is a king's bed in comparison." Din wouldn't let himself be fooled again. Migs was sleeping in a proper bed tonight, if he wanted to or not.


	3. The Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Migs knows he's being stubborn. But he is a grown man and he will do whatever he wants, dammit! (Din is stubborn too)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HeRE i gO. lAte AgAiN. It's a little bit shorter, but I think it's worth it because i'm planning some good stuff in the next chapters.

After Din got stabbed in the butt by the spiteful spring that kept Migs up all night, he decided it would be smart to change into some dry clothes. Leaving Migs to watch over the kid for a moment. Migs would manage. After all, the little guy and him were getting along just earlier this morning. 

Grogu was sitting on the carpet, playing with his froggie. Migs decided to take his caff over to him and settle in one of the armchairs. He looked down at the Green Bean, playing without a care in the world. It hadn't been long, but he was already feeling at peace. Maybe it was the overall lack of the bustle around their little house. No humming of ship engines, no chaos of spaceports, no merchants, shouting at one another. Nothing. Or maybe it was how Din dressed now. No armor, just soft dark clothes. Looking a little bit like the suit he wore under his armor. They too, covered most of his body, long sleeves and pant legs almost dragging on the floor. Migs' brain short-circuited at first when Din took the helmet off. But he guessed that maybe it was some mandalorian tradition not to wear the helmet when there's only family around. Migs couldn't complain, though. Those deep eyes and soft curls... a sight to behold. Din looked relaxed almost, and didn't that make something warm bloom in his chest?

The "almost" because Migs wasn't blind. He saw how tense Din really was, even if he tried to hide it. Let's be honest, Din was shit at hiding all of the things that normally would be covered by beskar. He couldn't blame him, with what he knew about Din's lifestyle so far. But Migs felt almost bad for reading Din like an open book.

The tension in his shoulders was probably due to the lack of his helmet covering his face. Or more likely, because of how vulnerable Din was now, no ship, no armor, no privacy, and an ex-enemy in his house.

One thing was clear from now on Migs wouldn't let Din get even more uncomfortable. He would give him the space he needed and do whatever his husband wanted him to.

-

His foolproof plan has proven to not be so proof of fool. He did not prepare himself for the possibility of Din himself asking him to make him uncomfortable. 

He probably should elaborate... Apparently, Din deemed the couch unsleepable. Which meant he wanted Migs to sleep in the bedroom. In the bed. With him. Together. 

And that was just unacceptable. 

Don't get him wrong. It's not like he's some blushing teenager, unable to come anywhere near their crush without combusting on the spot. Bad example, he didn't have a crush on the clueless space dad. He was just married to one.  _ Stars _ , wasn't that even worse? Or maybe better, he wasn't sure anymore. That wasn't even the case! He couldn't do what Din wanted because the only reason Din wanted it was because he was a nice person. Trying to help others, not thinking about himself. That couldn't be something Din actually wanted for himself. To sleep in one bed with the person you're unfortunately married to. And living so long under the armor, Din couldn't possibly be very fond of physical contact. Let alone someone breathing down his neck while he slept. The time Migs spent in the bedroom wasn't long, but from what he'd seen, the bed didn't have enough room for them to sleep comfortably with at least ten inches of free space between them. 

And that was it. Migs wouldn't sleep in the bed. He was a grown man, he didn't have to do whatever other people asked him to do, dammit! 

Even if the man in question was standing in front of him, in his soft-looking pajamas, still dripping water from the shower, and attacking him with the shiniest case of puppy dog eyes Migs has ever seen. Where had he even managed to learn that? No one ever saw those eyes. Maybe it was for the better. The world wasn't ready for a weapon this deadly. Migs doubted it would ever be.

"Are you sure? You clearly didn't get any sleep last night. You look like shit." 

"Thank you for your kind compliment. I'll keep it close to my heart. Yes, I am sure, I probably just need to get accustomed to the new place. " Din made a face at that. He didn't believe him. He shouldn't. As a soldier, he had to move from place to place constantly. The same goes for his mercenary days.

"Okay, you do you. I'm just saying it would be a shame if you died of sleep deprivation after we went through all the trouble of getting married, so I didn't have to kill you." Sassy little shit. He had a point, but that didn't mean Migs would now agree and do everything he wanted. Not when it came at the cost of Din's emotional well being.

Din sensed he was still hesitant, "You can sleep with your back to me and pretend I'm not there if that makes you uncomfortable." Din was going in the wrong direction with his assumptions there, but it was obvious he wouldn't budge, so Migs had to come up with a different tactic. 

"Okay, you win. I'm sleeping in the bed tonight, happy?" He couldn't help but feel a little warm inside when Din nodded excitedly. "You go to sleep. I still have to get my stuff and get into the fresher." Din seemed content with this and made his way into the bedroom. Maker bless his naive little soul. 

Migs went to grab his bag from where he left it - by the despised couch. He didn't have much. Just enough to survive, it has always been like this. He wondered if maybe now things would change. He was part of a family, unintentional, but what family isn't? And they had a house. Not some shelter for a few days or a ship. An actual house. He chuckled under his breath. Who would've thought he would end up like this. And it started with one unsuccessful jali break of all things.

He made quick work of undressing and getting under the water. The feeling of getting rid of the sweat and sand from his skin was just too good. 

After getting changed, Din took Grogu up to his room. From what Migs had heard, they had been playing with the wooden blocks Greef had bought for the kid. He had decided not to interrupt and head outside. Even in his exhausted state, the walk had taken up most of his day. Migs couldn't help himself, he needed to know what surrounded the house, possible escape routes, etcetera. Yes, he knew he was likely being paranoid. 

The area around their house was nice, if a little boring. There was sand, rock formations in the front, mountains in the back and on the sides. If someone was looking only from the front, they could think that the house was surrounded by the tall stones but after the second hour of hiking, Migs had found a narrow path leading through and around one of the mountains. A secret passage, if you will. And that was  _ exactly _ something Migs had been looking for. 

It was well into the evening, when he got home, there was a dinner waiting on the stove, nothing fancy, bantha stew with some flatbread on the side. He had heard water running. Din must've had already put the kid to sleep then. He didn't even get to finish eating when Din cornered him, and here he was now. Lying to his husband for the greater good. 

He toweled himself off and slipped into his newly bought pajamas. He got them along with few other things from the marketplace. They were thin and baggy, the equivalent of clothing standards on this planet. He was starting a new life, might as well have some new clothes. Especially if his old ones were so worn off, they were practically see-through in some places.

As he walked out of the bathroom, he was faced with the ajar door to Din's bedroom. Not quite open, probably to stop the light from assaulting Din's eyes, but not quite closed either, to let Migs know he was welcome. As if Din hadn't done that well by himself earlier.

Migs walked a little closer, careful not to make any sounds. From where he stood, Migs could see the bed and Din's lying form. Pale moonlight washing over him through the window. When he strained his ears, he could even hear quiet snoring. Consistent with the rise and fall of Din's chest.

For a few seconds, he even considered taking Din up on his offer. Crawling in the bed behind the man, wrapping his arms around him, and finally getting a few hours of good sleep.

He quickly dismissed those thoughts, before they got out of hand. Din was just being kind and considerate. He didn't really want Migs in his bed anyway. 

With that in mind, he went back to the living space. Migs couldn't so much as glance at the spiteful couch. He would much rather take his chances with the armchair, thank you very much.

He reached for his blanket, tried to curl in on himself, and make himself as comfortable as possible on the small cushion. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't much better than the couch, but he made up his mind, and what was he, if not stubborn?

Another night of little to no fitful sleep with constant waking up later, Migs' body ached all over. It was from the "being bent in every direction just to fit under the blanket" position if you asked him. 

And that's how Din found him. A shivering mess, drifting in and out of sleep. He didn't look particularly happy about that. And he made sure Migs knew. Silent treatment, that's what he got. Din was more reserved than usual, and that was quite the achievement. Only words he heard from the man through the day were directed at the kid.

Migs was almost too tired to care. Almost. It made him irritated. Very irritated. More than it should, really. And his tiredness was getting hard to ignore too. Migs yawned every five seconds, at least it felt like it. He just seemed to not be able to shut his mouth, for different reasons than normally.

This time he was cooking dinner. He wasn't sure if that was a good idea, though. Or more accurately, he was convinced it was a terrible idea when Din came running into the kitchen cursing under his breath because Migs had zoned out for a moment and didn't notice the food was on fire. 

Apparently, seeing Migs stare aimlessly into the blank spot on the wall, over their burning dinner, was enough for Din to start worrying. Or maybe he was worried before? Migs couldn't tell. 

He ordered Migs to sit by the counter and don't touch anything. That wouldn't be a problem. The smooth surface of the countertop looked very inviting and comfortable. If he could just- just lie his head down for a second...

He blinked awake to Din serving dinner with the kid at his hip and concern on his face. He still didn't talk to him, though. Just observed, like he was debating something in his head. Or maybe Migs was just dreaming things up, he was too tired for this. 

He didn't even notice when he finished eating. In the next moment, he found himself pushed into the fresher and later practically dragged by strong yet gentle hands towards the bed. He wasn't fully comprehending things at this point, but he was sure that fluffy thing looked kriffing divine.

He was right. The second this wondrous softness enveloped him whole, he was falling asleep almost quicker than he was falling for the amazing being that got him into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I am asking for fluff, domestic or even angst prompts on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/blvvewolf)  
> Although I do have some ideas for future chapters forming in my head. More Cara for sure, the Carano scandal will not take away the love I have for this amazing badass character ( although I do sometimes have to remind myself that actor=/=character) And an apperance of a special guest whose name rhymes with saz kizsla.


	4. The Vision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea, I'm back, a week late, that's a given now, BUT THERE IS A SURPRISE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER!! And I think this one is overall better than the other ones, so yeah enjoy...

Din stared at the prone form on his bed. It hadn't taken Migs more than a minute to fall asleep. He can't say he's surprised. Migs had been practically dead on his legs today, looking like he ran on the bare minimum of his brainpower.

It stung a little how Migs was willing to lead himself to such state just to avoid sleeping with him in one room. Going out of his way and lying to Din too... Guess Din never had the chance to get used to rejection. Nevertheless, he couldn't just let him burn himself out like that or purposefully make him uncomfortable. Din had already decided. He would sleep on the couch.

He took one last look at the sleeping man. He didn't even move from where Din had dropped him. Din sighed, shaking his head at this sight. He moved to quietly pull the covers from the bottom of the bed and over the man.

Now up close, he could take a better look at Migs' face. He looked at peace. Face slack, he looked almost... soft.

Okay, no, he needed to go to sleep too.

One way to the living space later, he was on the couch and trying to cover himself wholly with the too-small blanket he got from the closet in the bedroom. Which was stacked full with all sorts of fluffy blankets. Nights on Nevarro could get pretty cold. He should have grabbed two, but he didn't feel like getting back up.

Din settled his back on the couch and wiggled a little to get comfortable. It was a mistake. The moment he moved, the problematic spring pricked him in the lower back.

He tried to move around it. Surely a little piece of metal couldn't be worse than years of sleeping in a narrow crawl space. Don't get him wrong, he could get pretty comfy in his bunk on Razor Crest, but it wasn't a five-star hotel. When that didn't work, he tried to lift his back and tuck part of the blanket over the intrusion. It caused two problems: one, he had less blanket to cover himself with, and two, the sheet now created a bump, which after a few minutes became even more irritating than the spring itself.

Din groaned in frustration, lifted himself, and threw himself forcefully on the cushion. Another mistake, the spring jabbed him painfully in the side. Maybe the armchair would be a better shot. Stars, he wished he could sleep in the bed.

But Migs made it quite clear he didn't want that, so he had to make a do. He curled in on himself, trying to fit his whole body on the soft square. Very similarly to how he had found Migs the day before.

It was far from pleasant, but he didn't have so much of the open space at least, Din thought as he drifted off to sleep.

He was awakened by the sound of someone bustling around the kitchen. He tried to cover his ears with the blanket. The sleep he got wasn't as fulfilling as one might have thought. He gave up after a minute. The technique wasn't working as well as he hoped for.

With a groan, he hauled himself to his feet. The blanket draped over his shoulders, he made his way to sit in one of the chairs by the counter.

Once again, Migs was preparing breakfast, humming under his nose. He didn't even turn around to face Din when he spoke.

"You really are stubborn, aren't you?" He didn't sound angry. Din would even go as far as to say there were traces of amusement in his voice.

"You're the one to talk," Din grunted, and Migs snickered under his nose.

"We do make a perfect match then," he finally turned for a second to smirk at him. Din just shook his head with a smile. Migs looked way better than before, he still had some remaining shadows under his eyes, but it wasn't as bad. Din counted that as a win.

"But you're sleeping in the bed tonight. It was meant for you anyways."

"It's too spacious, makes me anxious."

"Spacious? It's barely a double bed." Migs didn't sound like he was mocking him, more like he was genuinely surprised. But Din decided to ignore him anyway.

"Grogu still sleeping?" He asked, looking around; no green baby in sight.

"Yeah, it's still early. I'm surprised you're already up." The teasing jab fell on deaf ears. Something was turning unpleasantly in Din's stomach. An uneasy feeling, as if something terrible was about to happen.

He decided to drown the thought in Migs' caf, which was standing on the counter untouched.

It had a rich taste and a ton of sugar in it.

"How can you even drink it?"

"Hmm? Ah! My caf- If you don't like it, why are you still drinking it?!" He reached for his cup but surrendered as quickly when Din just leaned back, one hand holding the counter, still sipping the dark liquid and not breaking the eye contact. Eyes wide.

"Why are you like this," he muttered, turning back to turn off the stove and placing what looked like blue milk pancakes on the plates. Din smiled into the caf.

"I like it because I like strong flavors. And while we're on the topic, you should really work on seasoning your food. It's bland and tastes like bantha shi-"

He was suddenly interrupted by a pitched cry from upstairs- Grogu's bedroom.

Din was on his feet in an instant. Running towards the stairs, Migs hot on his heels. They heard now steady crying from the room. He pulled out the one blaster he kept hidden under his shirt just as he was bursting through the trap door. He looked around, gun at ready. When he saw no immediate danger, he rushed over to the kid. Still crying in his crib, clutching his plush frog.

Din picked him up delicately. He couldn't find anything out of place, so he just held him to his chest. Small hands grabbing his shirt tightly as the sobs continued.

In the meantime, Migs had already checked all the windows, "I don't see anything. Is he alright?"

"Physically." He said in between shushing noises. That, combined with the slight rocking motions, seemed to calm Grogu a little. But he was still holding onto Din as if his life depended on it. They were before in situations where it did, but this wasn't one of them. At least not outwardly.

"Maybe a nightmare then?" Migs suggested. His brows were drawn, and he looked sincerely concerned.

"He's never had one before. Not since I got him, anyway." But from what the nice Jedi lady had told him, the kid already had enough nightmare fuel from his past. He looked down sadly.

Migs reached to the crib and handed Grogu his froggie, which he took gratefully with one hand, still clutching Din's shirt with the other. Then he took one of the fluffiest blankets and helped Din wrap it around the kid.

"Thanks," Din murmured, focused on adjusting his hold on the kid, and made his way down to the kitchen. Thankfully, Migs had finished frying those pancakes before Grogu woke up. If not, they would once again eat burned food. Din wasn't keen on wasting supplies, with being used to exploiting every scrap since he remembered.

He sat back down by the counter and, for a moment, thought about sitting Grogu in his high chair but quickly dismissed the idea. The kid looked miserable, wet sobs still fighting through his body sporadically, puffy eyes, snot running down his face. He was about to get up to get some tissues, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He flinched and quickly looked up. Migs was already handing him a full box.

Then he went on to finish breakfast. His hands were slightly shaking, Din noted.

He put the plate with pancakes in front of Din, they were covered in fruit and an extra amount of that sweet syrup Grogu was obsessed with since he had first tried it a couple of days ago. Smart. If there was something that could take Grogu's attention off of anything, it was food.

He tried to nudge the kid a little to turn around. And he succeded-briefly. Grogu took one glance at his plate and buried his face even further into Din's chest.

They exchanged looks, Migs immediately understanding what his plan was. He bowed to Grogu's level and delicately pried the frog from his tiny grasp.

He made a distressed sound.

"It's okay. I'm not taking it away. Just look, I'm pretty sure your friend here is hungry." He tried in a soft voice, almost whispering.

It took a lot of soft words and coaxing from both of them, but together, they managed to get Grogu to eat almost one full pancake and some fruit bites. After that, he refused to open his mouth, even throwing one of the pieces into Migs' face. But it was enough. There weren't any sobs wracking his little body or tears running down his face. He was just sitting there quietly, slumped in Din's lap, one hand holding his frog, the other clutching a thumb from one of the hands holding him upright. His eyelids were dropping too.

"It's a little early for a nap..." Din sighed, "But I guess you had a rather tiring morning." He walked over to the couch, careful not to jostle the kid too much, and tried to lie him down on the side far from the pocking spring. Grogu didn't seem to appreciate the sentiment. He started crying again, kicking his feet in the air, and turned around to once more grab at Din's shirt.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, I'm not putting you down. You're okay." Din quickly assured him and instead sat down himself. Kid still in his arms. "You're okay..." He sighed as the kid calmed down and mashed his face in the crock of Din's neck.

Wet breaths tickled him a little, but he tried not to squirm too much, instead focusing on watching Migs clean up after breakfast.

"He doesn't look like he'll be letting go of you, quite so soon," Migs proclaimed with a smirk when he finished washing dishes.

"Yes, I can see that." Din was getting a little frustrated with the circumstances. The mischievous tone in Migs' voice didn't help.

"So back at the market, I found some holomovies I liked back in the day, and I thought you could tell me which one of them you liked, and we could watch it. And it's a perfect occasion. The green bean is basically glued to you right now, so you can't run away." Din looked at him unimpressed.

"I could outrun you with the child and in full armor, not even using my jetpack." He deadpanned.

"Great, I'll get the disks." Migs threw over his shoulder as he ducked into a closet in which he had hidden them previously. He came back with his hands full of different recordings.

"You really like wasting money," Din said as Migs threw his possessions onto the cushion next to him.

"These are classics, every single one of them thus a necessity, mind you." He made a gesture to dramatically clutch at the shirt over his heart.

"But let's get to the important question. Which one is your favorite?" Din just shrugged.

"Oh, come on. You have to like something, and these, as I said before, are quite popular. You had to come across at least one." He pried.

"I didn't really have time or means to watch anything,” he said, looking down. He felt a little embarrassed at his lack of pop-cultural knowledge. For a moment, he was scared that Migs would make fun of that."

"Oh, boy. We have some catching up to do. Prepare for a marathon. I can't live with someone who doesn't get my references." He proclaimed as he turned on the first holo and flopped down on the cushion. Once again, forgetting about the spring and jabbing it deep into his right butt cheek.

The holos were pretty entertaining. Not a necessity to life, as Migs had said it, but a pleasant addition. The volume was low, not to disturb Grogu, whose little ears twitched at any noise. By the end of the second movie, Grogu was awake but still very much clingy. Which was gradually becoming a problem.

"I need to get up."

Migs looked at him, surprised, "Okay, go on?"

"No, I need to stand up without Grogu."

"Good luck with that." Migs chuckled.

"I'm serious, Migs." He glared as the other man waved him off.

"This is critical." Migs just looked at him doubtfully, rising one of his eyebrows. Din sighed and added quieter, "I need to go to the bathroom."

There was a moment of silence while Migs just stared at him. Then burst out laughing.

"Stop laughing and help me," he hissed.

"Sorry- I'm sorry. It's just- Din Djarin, great warrior, feared bounty hunter, the Mandalorian clad in full beskar, pissing his pants because of a kid is a super funny concept to me." He managed between wheezes. Din flushed.

"Yes, yes. Extremely funny." He wrapped the blanket tighter around Grogu, enveloping his hands. A scheme to hopefully keep him from getting another crushing hold on Din's shirt. Before Grogu could put together his plan, Din hurriedly lifted him off his lap and thrust him into Migs' arms.

Both of them made similar squeaks in shook. But when Grogu recognized where he was, he seemed to accept the change. Din was a little surprised by how little resistance he got. Grogu looked appeased, judging by how quickly he went back to cuddling the nearest soft area. Which just happened to be Migs' stomach.

However, Din couldn't stay around to laugh at the dumbfounded expression decorating Migs' face. He rushed off in the direction of the fresher.

-

They finished the movie and tried to get Grogu to play with one of his new toys to get him to cheer up a little. It kind of worked. He looked happier, his ears pointed up and a small smile on his face. But he was still reluctant to give up the physical contact. Someone had to hold him, let him sit in one's lap, or simply hold his little clawed hand at all times. Like he needed reassurance they were there. Din couldn't say it didn't make him worried.

He frowned at the bantha meat sizzling on the pan. Whatever nightmare Grogu had, it made him upset for the whole day. It must've been truly terrifying. Din has never seen him like that before. And that weird feeling he had just moments before... Was that some kind of parental instinct? Did something like this even exist?

"I cannot live like this anymore." Migs dramatically proclaimed as he came to stand beside Din, holding Grogu on his hip.

"What-?"

"Look at this. There is not a single particle of seasoning on this steak. I tried to tell you this before, your cuisine reminds me of my Imperial days, which I hoped to leave far behind me. Thank you very much."

"There's salt." Din tried weakly.

"Spice it up, or I'll have to shoot you." His face was dead serious.

"We don't have any spices." Din feigned innocence.

"We don't have any spic- what do you mean we don't have any spices? I'm sure I saw a full basket just yesterday." Migs threw open a cabinet with one hand. Din shrugged.

"It tastes better like this anyway." That earned him a suspicious glare.

"Did you get rid of them because you didn't like my cooking?"

Din averted his gaze back to the steak, "Please, I have better things to do than sabotaging your kitchen."

"You do realize you can't lie for shit, right?. Honestly, it's a blessing you've never played cards without your helmet on."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Din had trouble keeping a grin from forming on his face. Migs narrowed his eyes on him.

"Okay then, I'll buy me some new spices, and don't think I won't keep an eye on you. I'm still fairly certain you were involved in this... magical disappearance."

The dinner went by without any incidents. It was mostly quiet, except of course, for Migs' bitching about the food.

Grogu not having any problems with eating anymore was also a great thing. The rest of the evening was peaceful too. Migs played with the kid when Din showered and vice versa. By the time Migs was exiting the fresher, Grogu's eyelids started dropping, and his little arms slowly losing grip on the plushie.

The other man accompanied them to Grogu's nursery, talking to the kid over Din's shoulder in a hushed tone. It felt so domestic Din felt like he would burst at any given moment.

Or rather, it was like that until he tried to put Grogu in his crib. The kid was more awake than he was for the past half an hour, grasping Din's clothes, kicking, and making angry and distressed noises.

"Maybe you should just let him sleep with you tonight?" Migs chimed in after another failed attempt to pry Grogus claws of his shirt.

"He can't get used to constant coddling?" Din grimaced at the little tears in the material where Grogu's claws gripped too tight.

"Not to point out the obvious, but you're already doing that left and right. And what's one night gonna change? Look at him." Migs tried to make his best impression of pleading puppy eyes. The lack of any skills in this act hurt to look at. Din looked from his to Grogu's once again slightly teary eyes. Now those were puppy eyes. He sighed, lifted Grogu up to his level, and pointed his finger at him.

"Just one night. Got it?"

He got his confirmation in the form of a nod and resignedly headed towards the stairs and down. He was already in the bedroom when he noticed Migs, instead of following him, made his way to the living room.

"Where are you going?" Migs made a questioning sound. "You're not sleeping in the armchair again. Get back here."

"Be reasonable. You can't sleep there either with the kid, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable by sleeping in one bed with me," he said, walking back into the room.

"Cut the crap, I know it's about you not wanting to sleep with me, but I think it can't be worse than having your back broken every night." Din was too tired to play those games anymore.

"Are you trying to offend me? I couldn't care less about that shit!" Seemed like Migs was getting frustrated too.

"Then what's this all about?"

"Just figured you would be opposed to touching after all that time in the armor."

"Oh." Din wasn't sure what to say, honestly. He didn't even think Migs would be caring this much about his comfort. "I- I don't mind touch, just not used to it." He muttered under his breath, pretty sure there was a blush darkening his cheeks now.

They stood like that for some time. Migs watched Din intently, Din's gaze fixated on the closet standing by the door. The one with the blankets. If the silence stretched any longer, Din was sure he would become deaf. He climbed on the bed and shimmied a little until he was sitting on the farther side, Grogu making content noises in his lap. He was determined to make Migs sleep in the bed tonight. And if it would take him to be more forthcoming to make that happen, then so be it.

Migs looked like he considered something for a moment, then he turned back towards the door. Din was just about to protest but stopped himself when he noticed Migs wasn't leaving the room, instead reaching for the closet Din was previously aimlessly staring at. He pulled an armful of blankets and pillows and went to drop them on the bed. Then repeated the action.

"What are you doing?"

"Before, you complained about the space being too open," he said, taking some of the blankets and rolling them together into a cylinder-looking kind of thing. "And you seem to like to make your life harder than it needs to be. Like sleeping in the armchair, instead of using the simplest solutions." He continued to do the same thing with the rest. When he was done with that, he started arranging them around the bed, making a wall encircling Din and Grogu while still leaving some space for Migs. Din's eyes widened. He had to give it to Migs, he had not thought about that use of covers.

"I present to you... the nest!" Migs beamed, gesturing to his work vividly.

"That's the best name you could come up with?" Din made sure to summon his best-unimpressed face. While he was obviously touched by the thoughtfulness and sweetness of the gesture, he couldn't let Mayfeld get too smug.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think a great warrior, such as yourself, would appreciate sleeping in what is called a pillow fort." Migs smirked, hopping into the nest and making himself comfortable.

Din glared at him but abruptly looked down when he felt the movement in his lap. He as Grogu sleepily wriggled out of his arms and settled on the bed in between them. The plush frog safely in his reach.

It was time for Din to lie down too. He reached over his head to turn the light off. The switch was conveniently placed right over the headboard, as well as by the door. He lied on his side, facing Migs, the blanket wall a comforting presence at his back. Grogu was already asleep, his quiet snores filling the otherwise silent room. Din moved his eyes a little bit higher. He couldn't see Migs' face, the shadows obscuring his view. But he could see the steady rise and fall of his chest where he slept on his back.

Din felt himself slowly drift off to sleep. He felt calm. Calmer than in a long time. In front of him, safe and not further than a reach of a hand, the two people he loved.

-

Din woke up to a light shining in his face. He tried to move to stop the sunbeam from assaulting his eyes. He froze.

There was an unfamiliar weight on his waist. He quickly opened his eyes to assess the situation, but all he saw was a patch of light skin.

Din felt his heart beat faster. It dawned on him.

His face was squeezed where Migs' neck met his shoulder. Said man's face was buried into his hair. Din hands were squished between them, enveloping Grogu. The weight he felt turned out to be one of Migs' arms, thrown over his middle. The other one, he felt later, was the thing he rested his head on. Their legs were tangled together.

In simpler words, they were cuddling.

He tried to move his hand a little to get it in a more comfortable position but stopped the moment he felt, more than heard, Migs groan in his sleep. A horrifying thought entered Din's mind. What if Migs was angry at Din when he woke up? For invading his personal space like that?

Din was already feeling a little guilty about that, but the sensation of skin on skin felt too good to just end it. So he just laid there, basking in the feeling. At the same time, too content and too afraid to move.

It didn't look like Migs was about to wake up on his own any time soon. Which was good. Din had thinking to do, particularly about some very unexpected revelations his brain decided to supply him with the night before.

He felt Grogu stir in his arms. Dank farrik.

(a fanart by me (´ω｀*) )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ◕ ◡ ◕


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